Residence of A Soul

My soul was…

broken, smashed, crushed…

None and all could apply to all souls.

At times it feels like a heavy rock, pulling me to the bottom of the ocean, but the ocean seems bottomless and the destination never reached. An endless fall.

Other times, the place where we, humans, decided long ago, our souls reside, and so do our hearts, is in the center of our chest, slightly to the left.

Breathe in, slowly breathe out, and focus… there must be a sensation of soul, but how could one recognize that which she doesn’t know? And yet, it “feels” like a hole. Perhaps, this is how a blind person knows when to stop at the edge of a hole, but in my case, the hole was my soul. I was standing at its edge, undecided and stared down in its depth, where my soul was suppose to have resided. Perhaps it was still there, too deep to perceive.

Was I going to loose my emotional balance and step forward in search of IT, or instead, take two steps back in the safety of Mother Earth?

I am peaceful, I am safe, I made the right choice and stepped back!

I  write about the many possibilities, the options of where my soul might reside and how it might “look.”

For now, I conclude, it resides everywhere, rather than nowhere and “its shape,” is no shape.  My soul is pulverized in minuscule particles, able to be anywhere and nowhere at all times or no times…

It could be next to you, my children. You will not see it, but feel its presence and its love for you. When you do, please allow it to rest and breathe in your presence before it’s blown away, pulverized into eternity.

Motherhood… All Kinds Of Mothers. Does Motherhood Ever End?


How do you define motherhood and once a mother, does it ever end?

Before I became a mother, it was easy to explain the concept: A woman and a man made love and a child  resulted in the process. They raised the child and that was it! Simple!

I grew up in communist Romania and my mother’s greatest fear was that I would get pregnant as a teenager. There would have been nothing worst in her mind that me, still a child, to make the disastrous mistake to allow my hormones, as she put it, to cloud my “judgement.”  As a result, she “kept” my virginity intact by giving me pelvic exams after every date I had as a teenager. For years, I saw those horrific moments, when my privacy was invaded, as a sign of great love and concern. I still do, after all these years, even when I know the manifestation of her love was wrong and scarred me for life.

I really wanted to be a good girl, I didn’t want to disappoint and at eighteen, I secretly married my boyfriend.

The “secret marriage,” was a shock to everyone, but at least,  the pelvic  exams stopped. They were replaced by motherly advice on how not to get pregnant while being sexually active.

I continued to be a good girl and for the following 12 years, never got pregnant. I knew how to “protect myself,” and please my mother, who continued to tell me having kids would be a mistake. She was giving herself and her “wasted” life as an example. I was her only child… what was I doing on this Earth if I have not been welcomed, not even by my mother? A question I am still asking myself…

I never asked those questions at the time. In our “collectivist culture,” as I discovered much later, it was defined, families were close, parents respected and not discarded when one turned eighteen. Truth be told, the parents didn’t discard their children at eighteen either. The age had little to do with the idea that parenting ever stops.

Throughout my married life I continued to call her daily and visit her weekly. When she fell ill, I felt guilty if I didn’t visit her daily. When she died, I felt I lost my best friend. I still do.

However, somehow, her death freed me of the fear of becoming a mother myself.  What if being a mother was that unique experience which fulfills a woman? To experience first hand the miracle of life. ..

A few years later, in a different country, a different culture, which at the time I did not know it was called “individualistic,” I re-married and had two beautiful daughters.

The instincts of being a mother completely took over my life. I breathed, worked, ate, slept  and dreamed for my daughters’ benefits.

I wanted them to have it all. Everything which I didn’t, growing up in Romania: piano lessons, art lessons, gymnastics, dance,  best private schools. I changed professions, so that my children will not take the yellow school bus and I drove them to school daily. Oh, and the pets, which were denied to me in my childhood! MY children were going to have a zoo! And a zoo it was: dogs, cats, reptiles, birds, fish. Even a frog…

I thought I was doing it all right… I knew the saying children learn what they see. I even read in a book that a child associated the smell of alcohol with his mother’s good night kiss, and I stopped drinking, for fear my children would “like alcohol,” because it was associated with my breathe. I wanted their self-esteem to be great and purchased special tapes to boost their egos.

Years went by, they turned 18 and left. They left as far away as I could  have imagined… They no longer needed me!

I love my grown up daughters and miss them every day… It is heartbreaking for me to accept that for over twenty years they were the center of my life and now, that my “motherly duty” is over, they disappeared from my life forever! I am shattered inside and can’t manage to glue back together the broken pieces of my heart.

Once, when I was a child, I played with a type of insects called God’s caws. I put them in a jar and inside I put grass and food for them and observed them. After a while, I noticed tiny white eggs, which after a few days turned into larvas. What shocked me, was that the second the “babies” came to life, the parents died! At the time, that made me sad, but now, I think differently…

Perhaps it would be easier on a human mother’s soul to just die once her children no longer need her…

I envy those insects, for not having to make a choice. God made it for them!



Too Much Love…

May be the coins in her pockets didn’t overflow fast enough
To show the world her value.
May be the proof of the superficial wasn’t demonstrated clear enough
To make an unquestionable, immediate difference.
Thankfully, the mission was accomplished after all:
The pockets were filled to the brim, and that was all it mattered:
For the world to admire her riches,
Her undeniable assurance of perfection,
Peace of mind, happiness, and
Ultimately, the magic of turning tarnish into spotless, and more…
As if nothing ever happened!

Is this the end of a dream…
Eyes wide open, heart racing…
Could love be bought? Whose love? Whose pockets? Somebody’s, anybody’s,
Mine, yours, ours…

Love as profound as the Ocean,
Its bottom so far down,
I can’t see it,
But I know it exists.
Faith assures me it does,
Yet I test!
Eyes wide open, holding my breath,
I question my own love…
There is a beginning to motherly love,
But is there an end?

I think I reached the bottom,
Yet, I didn’t!
More time goes by, less pain I feel.

The million knives which penetrated my heart,
Have been absorbed.
My heart closed and locked them forever
In the darkness of my confused, devastated
Motherly heart…

‘Look,’ the Adviser whisperd, while pressing down into her pockets
The shining coins, to make space for more…
‘Look, how smooth your mother’s heart looks!
It is completely healed! A perfectly smooth heart, not even a scratch!’

Later, upon the dissection of the
Perfectly smooth heart,
A million sharp knives were extracted,
Cleaned and reused on other motherly hearts!

The adviser smiled;
The satisfaction of a job well done!
After all, it’s about shinny coins, not
How one earns them!

Tomorrow is trash day,
What’s left of this Mother’s heart will disappear forever… or will it?

Peace Settles At Last…

Something broke at the core of my heart

Into millions of pieces…

A vague, uncertain feeling whispered:

‘Look through a magnifying glass,’

I did.

All the way down, at the very bottom

I saw a shape darker than the dark,

“It must have been my hope,”

I  concluded, but was not certain.

Did it matter anyway?

What it used to be, was now at the bottom.

It could not be saved!

It could have been love, or trust too,

All the noble ideals we invent 

To survive.

Especially hope.

My mind knew all it mattered

Was the  NOW, but the irrational Soul

Hung onto the past…

Millions of pieces crushed

Under the burden of lies, pretense,

The illusion of forever, the fear of death.

God answered me at last:

There is NO forever,

Only the dust  which suffocated me, 

The millions of crushed dreams,

Which sparkled in the darkness of life,

Giving me the illusion of hope!

I refused to believe,

I looked again, closer,

Through the distorted, magnifying glass 

Of human emotions.

The hole deepened,

More and more…

A bottomless hole!

Somewhere, deeper than the hope,

I sensed another shadow,

Darker than the dark,

I was not certain what it was…

I needed the artificial light of 

Human pretense and vanity

To dictate  the rules

Of what it was that,

Which I saw!!!

Perhaps it was FAITH!

I turned around, and around,

Faster and faster,

No matter where I turned,

I was blinded by random pieces

Of Truths.

They were senseless and hurtful…

The wider I opened my eyes,

The greater the hurt…

I closed them quickly,

Tight and forever…

Peace settled at last!